Revenge of the Second Son. Sara Orwig

course not, or I wouldn’t have suggested coming by myself,” she replied, trying to ignore the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. Taking the directions from his hand, she picked up her purse and headed for the door. Suddenly he was there in front of her, reaching around her. Instead of opening the door, he stepped closer and blocked her with his hand on the knob, his arm a barrier. She turned to look up at him.

      “So is it going to be all business this weekend?” he asked in a husky, seductive voice that created a honeyed warmth in her.

      “Probably not,” she replied breathlessly, wishing she could wrap him around her little finger and get what she wanted from him. Nick leaned closer and his gaze lowered to her mouth.

      Her lips parted, tingling, but she moved around him and placed her hand over his on the knob. The instant she touched him, another fiery current simmered from her fingers to her toes.

      She looked up at him. “I need to open the door.”

      With a smile, he swung the door wide and then he followed her into the reception area. “Tomorrow afternoon about five or six.”

      “Fine,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at him. At the outer door, she looked back to find him still watching her. The minute she was in the hallway, her smile vanished. “What have I done?” she asked herself as she stepped into the empty elevator. “The only thing you could do,” she answered herself, butterflies still fluttering in her stomach, her palms sweaty from spending the past few minutes with Nick.

      No man had ever disturbed her the way Nick had and that worried her most of all because she was usually in control of her responses.

      All the rest of the day and far into the night, she weighed the pros and cons of spending a weekend with him. Yet she had to do something to try to get a satisfactory settlement, or even better, get Nick to back off and leave Holcomb Drilling unscathed.

      The next afternoon, as she drove over the arching causeway to Galveston and looked below at sparkling blue water, she asked herself the same question worrying her constantly since leaving his office. Would this weekend help save Holcomb Drilling?

      Could she resist Nick’s sex appeal? She reminded herself that all she had to do was remember what he intended to do to her heritage and future.

      She shook her shoulders as if she banished a problem. How easy it was to think his appeal diminished when she was miles away from him!

      “Be polite, professional,” she reminded herself, glancing at the rearview mirror. She wanted something from him and there was no hope of getting it if she exposed her fury.

      In minutes she parked at the Galveston Yacht Club. She slipped her backpack and her purse over her shoulder and picked up her briefcase. Taking a deep breath as if going into a battle, she circled the yacht club and strolled down to the wharf to look for the slip with his boat. She spotted him in cutoffs, a T-shirt and wraparound sunglasses. He and another man were in a motorboat. When Nick saw her, he sprang to the dock and came striding forward to meet her.

      It was warm and she’d worn cutoffs, a cotton shirt, deck shoes and sunglasses and she suspected that behind his dark glasses, he was giving her a quick, thorough assessment. An appraisal that she gave him in return while her pulse thudded. His T-shirt molded sculpted muscles, the short sleeves stretched by thick biceps. His chest tapered to a narrow waist, flat stomach and well-muscled legs. The cutoffs were brief and tight. She should have guessed that beneath those elegant suits he wore, he had muscles.

      The same mixture of attraction and dislike gripped her. She hated his intentions to destroy her family’s business but, as a woman, she responded eagerly to Nick.

      “You really intend to work,” he said, taking her briefcase from her.

      “Certainly. That’s the whole point of getting together this weekend.”

      “I thought my personality enticed you.”

      She had to laugh at him. “With the lifelong differences between us? I don’t think so.”

      “When you weren’t here half an hour ago, I thought you’d changed your mind about sailing with me,” he said.

      “No. Just a slight delay,” she said, startled that he guessed that she’d almost canceled the weekend. Duty urged her to do what she could and spend time with him, so she was going to follow her conscience.

      “Great,” he said, taking her arm. He waved her briefcase slightly. “I’ll make a bargain with you. In the interest of getting acquainted and laying some groundwork for keeping things civil between us, no business discussions until twenty-four hours from now. That way, we’ll have a pleasant weekend, get acquainted and get down to the nuts and bolts maybe tomorrow this time. How’s that for a deal?”

      “Fine with me,” she said, looking into his unfathomable brown eyes and wondering what was behind his suggestion. Was he laying the groundwork for seduction? The mere speculation thrilled her in a way she hated.

      “Good,” Nick replied cheerfully. “Come meet my captain, Luis.”

      Nick jumped into the motorboat, causing it to rock slightly. He set down her briefcase, took her backpack and purse. Then his hands closed around her waist and he swung her into the boat. He lifted her easily and they gazed into each other’s eyes while he held her. Her hands rested on his forearms, where she detected the flex of solid muscles. Each contact heightened her reaction to him. He held her a fraction longer than necessary and she stood with her hands on his forearms when she could have stepped away. As she looked into his brown eyes, she knew he wanted her. He released her and turned to a man standing in the boat.

      “Julia, this is Luis Reyna. Luis, this is Miss Holcomb.”

      She greeted the tall black-haired man and then she sat in the front of the boat. She watched Nick’s muscles ripple and flex as he unfastened the line and pushed away, and in seconds, they chugged slowly from the dock.

      “So where are we headed? I know we’re not spending the weekend in this,” she said, looking at a number of yachts and sailboats at anchor.

      “There’s my boat, For Ransome,” he said, pointing to the southwest.

      She followed his gaze to see a large, sleek yacht. “Give or take a few feet,” she said, repeating what he had told her about his boat. “It has to be over forty feet long,” she said, eyeing the white yacht that had teak accents and a thin gold stripe on the hull. Nick smiled and shrugged.

      When they were alongside, a man dropped a ladder over the side. Nick took her backpack and purse and scrambled up, turning to help her, leaning down to circle her waist with his arm and swing her to the deck.

      This time, he released her immediately. “Julia, this is Dorian Landry. Dorian, meet my guest, Miss Holcomb.”

      She greeted the man and then walked away while the two men talked. Nick’s luxurious yacht exceeded her family’s large, comfortable sailboat, reinforcing her awareness of Nick as a powerful, formidable opponent no matter how sexy and appealing he appeared.

      “Let me show you your cabin,” he said, catching up with her. She followed him down a companionway to a spacious starboard cabin with a cream berth in beige and white decor.

      “Want to come above while we head out? We’ll travel along the coast. I’ll give you the official tour of my boat later.”

      “Sure,” she said, setting down her things, aware that in spite of the roominess, Nick dominated the cabin with his height and presence. When they went above, to her surprise, Nick took the wheel and she glanced around. “Where’s Luis? And Dorian?”

      “They’re headed back,” Nick said with a jerk of his head.

      Startled, she frowned at Nick. “We’re alone?”

      “Yes. I thought that’s what we agreed,” he replied, looking at her and his eyes narrowing. “Changed your mind? I can take you back.”

      “No,”